


Prisoner

by karenmcfadyyon



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-28
Updated: 2010-04-28
Packaged: 2017-10-09 05:13:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/83398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karenmcfadyyon/pseuds/karenmcfadyyon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John was just a prisoner</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prisoner

Prisoner

 

John Sheppard was a prisoner of really amazing, hot, and incredibly sweaty and sticky gay sex.

He wasn't entirely sure when or why he'd first begun to lose his mind.

It might have been because of the glowy, non-corporeal sex with Chaya, he thought sometimes, if only because he wasn't exactly a glowy, non-corporeal type of guy, he was more a hot, sweaty, sticky and decidedly corporeal type of guy. That could explain why, when Rodney McKay had gotten into his face on the transporter after a mission nearly gone bad and they were both seriously feeling the 'I can't believe I'm alive' adrenaline, he'd shoved Rodney up against the wall and, dear God, stuck his tongue down Rodney's throat.

Or maybe it wasn't the non-corporeal sex with Chaya and the decidedly corporeal sex with Rodney.

Maybe it was the fact that Rodney was, weirdly, looking very good these days, lots of physical work, being out in the field, and Rodney took weapons practice very seriously even if his first thought was seldom to use his, and besides, even with a little tang of fear sweat still on him, Rodney smelled good. Hell, Rodney smelled great and tasted better.

But try as he might, John still could not figure out what had possessed him to kiss Rodney that first time. Things had really gone to hell, figuratively speaking, from there. Okay, not to hell, just to really amazing, hot, and incredibly sweaty and sticky gay sex.

Really hot.

Really amazing.

Except John Sheppard wasn't gay.

Even weirder, he would have bet Rodney wasn't gay, either.

Or at least, neither of them had been gay before coming to Atlantis, John thought, heading toward Rodney's lab. He wondered idly if maybe all this was because of some sort of alien sexual orientation polarity gamma ray thing that reversed people's sexual orientation or something. Or some sort of weirdness peculiar to the Pegasus galaxy.

Of course, even in his most demented moments, John knew those theories were completely insane, if for no other reason than the fact that he was pretty sure Ford, after working his way through a couple of the nurses, had started tangoing with Teyla, and not with sticks in his hands, either. And there was Zelenka's crush on Weir, and Simpson and Grodin going at it, reportedly like mink.

Too bad, too. Either theory would have made a nice handy explanation John could have rehearsed for his upcoming court martial or dishonorable discharge.

John just couldn't seem to stop himself. He was a prisoner of really amazing, hot, and incredibly sweaty and sticky gay sex. With Rodney.

It wasn't even like Rodney had put the moves on him, he'd jumped Rodney.

Again and again and again.

Not that Rodney ever protested, of course. Rodney was not only less annoying when naked, he was also less annoyed, and his verbal abilities were seriously compromised beyond what he needed to say John's name, petition God and threaten to hurt John if John stopped doing whatever John was doing at that particular moment.

And here John was on his way again right now to drag Rodney out of his lab and do it again.

Because, he thought, it was really amazing, hot and incredibly sweaty and sticky gay sex and he just couldn't stop himself.

John pressed the control to open the lab door and saw Rodney across the room, typing away with his head bent over the laptop on the desk. He really liked the nape of Rodney's neck. The hair there was very soft and short and sometimes, depending on what Rodney had been doing, it was damp with sweat and curling just a little. The skin there was pretty soft, too, and Rodney always shivered when John breathed on it.

Thinking about that made John's cock notice that Rodney was in the same room. The damn thing was worse than Pavlov's dog; John was gloomily awaiting the day he got hard in a mission briefing just because he was watching Rodney's hands and mouth.

It happened often enough in Rodney's lab or Rodney's quarters or if they were alone anywhere, anywhere at all.

John really was just a prisoner of really amazing, hot, and incredibly sweaty and sticky gay sex.

So he just stood and watched, waiting for Rodney's brain to process the sound of the door. Watched and thought about that first time again.

In the transporter.

While mapping the inside of Rodney's mouth and checking for his tonsillectomy, John had gotten his hands inside Rodney's pants and given them both a hand job with his cock pressed up against Rodney's. He was pretty sure the kissing had shorted out Rodney's ability to think and the hand job had completed that process, leaving them both slumped on the floor of the transporter, covered in semen and sweat.

The second time hadn't been all that much later in Rodney's quarters where John had knocked Rodney down on his own bed and taught them both the fun of naked friction between two likeminded guys. Rodney had been explaining earnestly to him why really amazing, hot and incredibly sweaty and sticky gay sex between team leader and team member was a very bad idea, not to mention why really amazing, hot and incredibly sweaty and sticky gay sex between the ranking military officer and the chief scientist of Atlantis was a very, very bad idea, and sticking his tongue in Rodney's mouth and knocking him down had put a stop to that.

Oh, yeah, Rodney was way less annoying naked. Evidently, he found John less annoying naked, too, or maybe being naked made it harder for John to annoy Rodney. John wasn't sure, and it could be one of those chicken or the egg arguments, but it really didn't matter.

Neither of them, apparently, was capable of stopping anyway.

The third time had only been a day or so later, and John had pushed Rodney up against the inside of Jumper 1, yanked Rodney's pants down and sucked Rodney's cock until he came, thick and hot, right down John's throat. The fourth time, they'd been in John's quarters, and the only thing Rodney had been trying to explain earnestly was that since they were pretty close to the same height, sixty-nine was a pretty damn good position to try.

Rodney, as he often did, had proven to be absolutely correct.

Stepping quietly, John moved across the lab, a little miffed that Rodney hadn't noticed he was there.

"Ah, ah, ah," Rodney said warningly, when John was within arm's length. "No sneaking."

John grinned. "Bastard, you knew I was here."

"I'm working." Rodney hunched over his laptop as if he thought John was going to take it.

"It's late," John said and put his hands on Rodney's shoulders. He leaned down to lick the nape of Rodney's neck. Rodney shivered. "You need to be done working. The Wraith are gone. Atlantis is safe." He kissed the spot beneath Rodney's ear and sucked on his earlobe. "I raided medical supply."

"What?" Rodney's voice was distracted. "You what?"

He sucked at the side of Rodney's throat. "Lube."

Rodney shivered again. "Lube."

"Uh huh. For playing." John slid his hands down Rodney's chest, rubbed his nipples through his shirt. Rodney's nipples were amazing. Whenever Rodney was out in the wind or when the temperature in the city was a little low, Rodney's nipples perked up and said hello.

That was probably what had reversed John's sexual polarity, John thought and put his mouth very close to Rodney's ear. "Wanna play with me?"

Rodney shivered again and abruptly shut the laptop down, closed it and rose. John leaned against Rodney's back and gently pinched his nipples through the shirt. "Yes," Rodney said, his tone decisive. "I do."

The last five times they'd had sex, they'd avoided both sets of quarters, and had found an unoccupied suite with a very nice bed that was fairly off the beaten path and in a still unoccupied area. It wasn't too far from Rodney's lab, which was why John had selected it, and neither one of them had to worry about being quiet or being caught coming out of the other's quarters, and he loved making Rodney get noisy, even if it was largely nonverbal.

Rodney turned around in his arms and looked at him, one corner of his mouth turned down. "This is really insane."

John's heart thumped. 'But you just said—"

"I said yes, I do, but that doesn't mean I don't think it's insane," Rodney told him and kissed him.

Kissed him pretty thoroughly, in fact, and put his hand down the back of John's pants to squeeze his ass very nicely.

John made a little sound in his throat when Rodney pulled his hands out of John's pants, and another one when Rodney drew back. "Maybe it's insane, maybe it's not."

"How can it not be insane?" Rodney sighed and shook his head. "Lube, huh?"

"Yeah," John agreed and forced himself to let go of Rodney. Rodney had said yes, in spite of his pessimism. "And, I got some dinner for us."

Rodney looked pleased at that.

When Rodney was pleased, he was far less annoying, John thought fondly. Maybe that was why he'd taken that whole pleasing Rodney to a new level with the really amazing, hot, and incredibly sweaty and sticky gay sex. It didn't matter, really. A pleased Rodney was a lot of fun, and he chattered on at John about what he was working on when John had interrupted him.

They took the transporter to their level and then a quick trip down a corridor and John opened the door. He'd gotten a table from another apartment, and chairs, and had set out their dinner along with two bottles of Athosian ale.

"I had to take Beckett to the mainland today," he told Rodney casually. "Got some of that ale."

Rodney looked even more pleased. "Oh, nice." He gave John that funny little smile that always made John feel pretty pleased, too.

They sat down to sandwiches and ale, and Rodney kept chattering in between bites, and John nodded and listened and thought about just how really amazing the hot and incredibly sticky and sweaty sex with Rodney was, and how he couldn't seem to stop. He didn't think he could stop if someone pointed a gun at him.

Well, maybe then. It was hard to imagine being able to get it up with someone about to shoot him.

But otherwise? Forget it. Court martial? He tried hard to imagine seriously being court martialed. Nope, didn't make him want to stop. Forget it, it wasn't stopping him now, and he couldn't foresee it stopping him in the future.

Dishonorable discharge? Well, like court martial, they'd have to drag his ass back to Earth to do it, and nope, that wasn't going to stop him from getting up when he was finished, stripping his clothes and Rodney's off, and doing whatever the two of them felt like doing to get hot and sticky and sweaty.

John smiled at Rodney over his last bite of sandwich and Rodney stopped talking to stare at John's mouth before popping in his last mouthful. John picked up his bottle of ale and leaned over to give Rodney a close-mouthed kiss before getting up and taking his ale to the bed.

Rodney's gaze followed him, of course, so he took off his shirt, tossed it at the chair he'd vacated.

Rodney took a drink of ale and watched him, his mouth curving slightly. John grinned and sat down on the bed to unlace his shoes and get rid of them. Then socks. Then, then he stood up and reached for his waistband. "You coming to bed?"

"In a minute," Rodney said and smirked. "Keep going."

John raised his eyebrows and unfastened his pants, pushed them down with his underwear and stepped out of them.

Rodney watched with that focused look that turned John on like crazy. Unfortunately, it now turned John on in briefings and in the middle of crises. Oh, well, so he was queer for a brilliant and obnoxious physicist, it could have been worse.

His cock certainly thought so. It was perking right up at Rodney's focus, and John licked his lips, watching Rodney's face. Rodney got up finally, came over to John and kissed him hard, pushed him down on the bed and knelt in front of him.

John leaned in for another kiss, but Rodney held him back with a hand in the middle of his chest. John blinked, but Rodney smiled, stroked both hands over his chest, paying a lot of attention to his nipples.

All good, John thought and shivered at little spikes of pleasure. His nipples were also a lot more sensitive than he'd ever thought, or else Rodney was training them, and oh, God, Rodney's teeth worried very gently at one now, and that was something. He put his fingers in Rodney's hair and spread his knees farther apart, urging Rodney closer.

Rodney kept that hand on his chest. "Uh uh," he said and the huskiness in his voice made John shiver. When Rodney's voice got that husky, he was usually about to have another really amazing, hot, and incredibly sweaty and sticky idea. "Lie back. Put your feet up on the edge of the bed."

Oh, fuck. John's brain just shorted out for a minute before he leaned back across the bed, more exposed than he'd ever been in his life, and Rodney's breath was warm on the base of his cock. He shivered, shivered again when the tip of Rodney's tongue touched there, wet, and warm. It was all sex and heat and Rodney's mouth, then, on his cock and balls and then lower and hotter, teasing and probing him and he had his knees drawn up, body arching into that and somebody was making the most incredibly wanton, wordless sounds. He had a feeling that was him, but his brain wasn't functioning enough to be sure.

Rodney's hands were under his ass, lifting and spreading him and he had his fingers knotted in the sheets beneath him. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he was never going to get over this, but he'd known that already. He couldn't stop, was helpless to stop, and yeah, he was sooooo a prisoner of really amazing, hot, and incredibly sweaty and sticky gay sex with Rodney.

Rodney's mouth moved to the inside of his thigh and Rodney raised his head. "Where's that lube?"

It took a minute for the sounds to resolve into words and then John had to think. "Um," he said and freed his right hand from the sheets, fumbled under the pillow for the tube. "Here."

Rodney took it and John tried to slow his pulse with a few slow, deep breaths. It was working until Rodney's mouth pressed against him again, right on the top of his thigh, and then he nearly came off the bed when Rodney's finger stroked cool slickness into him.

John could protest. He could tell Rodney to stop. He didn't doubt for a minute Rodney would stop.

But he didn't. Apparently, he was willing to let Rodney do whatever to him. The thing that made that okay was that Rodney wasn't exactly resistant to any of John's ideas, either. So he relaxed into what Rodney was doing and was rewarded by, oh, God, yes, that was good, very good, and his cock jerked a little when Rodney hit just the right spot. Rodney's mouth was on his balls, hot and sweet and it was so good.

John put both hands in the sheet again and gripped, made those sounds again, let his head fall back as Rodney's finger moved in and out of him. It went from being a little too much to being not enough and the second finger inside him was almost a relief. Oh, Christ, he was going to come and Rodney had barely touched his cock at all. He let go of the sheet, reached for his cock, and gave it a few strokes before Rodney grabbed his wrist with his free hand, stopping him.

"Rodney," he said, and yeah, it was definitely a whine. "Come on!"

Rodney kept finger-fucking him, but pulled John's hand up and kissed his fingertips. "No, no, don't you do it." Really husky.

God, that voice, it shorted what little was left of John's ability to think coherently. He pushed his ass into Rodney's fingers, shuddering at the sensation of being opened and stretched, rubbed his fingertips over Rodney's mouth, and then, he could hardly believe it was his voice, "Goddammit, Rodney, just fuck me already, will you?"

Rodney bit John's fingertips, and pulled his fingers out of John's ass.

John whimpered. "Rodney!"

Suddenly, Rodney was up on the bed, looking down at him. "John, are you sure?"

God, that voice, husky and promising and God.

"Just do it," John said hoarsely, distantly amazed that somehow, Rodney had gotten partly undressed while driving him crazy.

Rodney's pants followed his shirt and shoes and socks, and then there was a warm naked body against John's, all heat, and hardness, and John's ass was in Rodney's lap. Rodney's mouth was warm against his chest, beard stubble teased his nipples, and then Rodney's teeth and that was all good, that was insanely good, and John put his hands in Rodney's hair, arched his body up, trying less than successfully to rub his cock against Rodney's weight on him.

"Wait, wait," Rodney breathed and reached down. More slickness and then a cold spike of panic as Rodney's cock pressed into him.

It was strange and it burned and the world slid sort of sideways while he tried to breathe and then Rodney stopped moving and cupped his face with one hand. "Do you need me to stop?" Hoarsely, eyes intent on his face.

The panic evaporated between one breath and another. This was Rodney, John thought, Rodney, and he trusted Rodney, he wanted Rodney, and Jesus, he loved Rodney, which was almost as scary as the whole having Rodney's cock up his ass thing, except it wasn't really scary, just unexpected. "No," he gasped, "No, just…just slow, give me a minute."

"Yes, yes," Rodney agreed and closed his eyes briefly. "Whatever you need, John."

The heat returned, and John melted, melted, turned his cheek into Rodney's hand. Deep breath and then he was okay, the burn and stretch shifted to pleasure, and he wrapped an arm around Rodney's neck. "Oh, God, yes," he moaned and then he had to move, because Rodney was being too careful of him, and Rodney groaned and had to move with him. Intense and hot and weird and oh, God, he was a prisoner all right, but he just wasn't sure any more that it was just the really amazing, hot, and incredibly sweaty and sticky gay sex.

Looking up at Rodney's face, John thought maybe it was Rodney. Rodney's cock was deep inside him and fuck, he thought maybe now Rodney really owned him, even if Rodney didn't know it.

That thought melted him again and Rodney moved faster, deeper and he reached down and this time Rodney let him jerk himself off, fast and hard and he wrapped his legs around Rodney's waist and came hard, came for what seemed forfuckingever. Rodney stiffened, thrust fast and hard and groaned into his throat, bit the skin there and soothed it once they could both breathe again.

John had closed his eyes; he opened them to find Rodney gazing at him as if he was the most amazing, most wonderful thing Rodney had ever seen. Which was weird, because right now, flushed with orgasm, eyelids starting to look a little languid, and mouth puffy from….well, everything, Rodney was truly the most amazing and wonderful thing John had ever seen.

"Jesus, Rodney," he blurted. "I think I love you, I mean, I do, Rodney." His heart started hammering, ninety to nothing, and he was so scared, he hadn't been this scared facing the fucking Genii during the storm. Although to be fair, he'd been so fucking enraged, there hadn't been room for fear for most of it, but god, this stuff, this was scarier stuff than battle.

But Rodney gave him this almost shy quick smile, so quick he would have missed it if he hadn't been watching closely. "Me, too." He kissed John's collarbone and started to shift.

John tightened his legs. "No, don't. Just stay there."

Rodney laughed against his skin. "That's not going to work for long, John."

"I don't care." John laughed a little, bad idea, and that was the end of that, Rodney's cock slipped or was pushed out and then he had Rodney wrapped around him very nicely. He closed his eyes and carded Rodney's hair. Maybe it wasn't the non-corporeal sex, or some weird polarity reversing gamma rays or something specific to the Pegasus galaxy or even Rodney's nipples. Maybe, he thought, a little bemused, maybe it was just Rodney.

John grinned.

Yeah, he was a prisoner, all right. But not just of the really amazing, hot, and incredibly sweaty and sticky gay sex.

Nope. Not at all.

Prisoner or not, he wasn't sure he'd ever want to get free.


End file.
